All these years I’ve been dipping my pizza crust in mayonnaise when it would have been far more healthy to coat them in scrambled egg.

Can I hire a film crew to follow me around recording everything I do? Ostensibly it will be to make a documentary about my personality, but really the cutting room footage will give me a database from which to work out how to become a better conversationalist.

From Metal Gear Solid – “It is true that Snake has killed a lot of people. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a heart.”

Grocery shopping is food foreplay.

He experiences sound ten metres west of his position.

He walks away. The sun goes down. He takes the day, but I take the crown.

How does what I do compare with what is expected of me?

I bet Stewart Lee is good at pub quizzes.

I find it easier to cry in films than I used to. Is that a good thing?

I want to make a show called “The Cross Factor” in which people compete for the approval of very cross judges. I’d title it with the words “The” and “Factor” with a cross in between them.

I’ll just read a bit of TV Tropes while I fry my eggs and toast my- oh my goodness it’s evening now I’ve been reading all day and the house has burned down.

Invisibility Sponge: The Collected Thoughts and Fictions of Mungo Tatton-Brown.

My internal reading voice has adopted a strong Yorkshire accent.

My laptop overheats so badly you could dry an egg on it.

My life is an ever expanding bucket list.

My phone thinks “farts” is not a word.

My problem with the internet is that when so much great material is so popular, it’s hard for my product – which is crap to be honest – to get any traction.

My question to every political candidate:  If you could be judged on one statistic, what would it be?

People are rarely as complex or as simple as they appear.

Plastic was invented by someone who was really bad at making mozzarella.

Playing whack-a-mole with my demons.

Sleep makes everything better.

Statistically speaking, if you keep trying long enough, eventually you will die.

That reminds me of something completely unrelated.

The frightening prospect is not that the computer will break the rules but that it will follow them.

There’s a note on my phone I can’t remember writing. It says “stanuldupb about my pickings amd hatred for all.” I know the first word was meant to be “stand-up”. What did I mean by “pickings”?

The street sign said “Dead End Drive” and beneath it was a corpse. Was it irony or sarcasm?

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